


Bathtime

by chibinocho



Category: The Watchmaker of Filigree Street - Natasha Pulley
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Japanese Culture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibinocho/pseuds/chibinocho
Summary: Mori introduces Thaniel to the concept of Japanese bathing etiquette.
Relationships: Keita Mori/Thaniel Steepleton
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	Bathtime

**Author's Note:**

> So as it turns out, the best way to cope with quarantine/isolation is to just keep writing. I love this pairing and both books fill me with glee and I was actually quite surprised that this didn't turn explicit but it didn't quite seem right for the subject. But still, who doesn't love men in the bath.
> 
> This is post-Watchmaker and pre-Pepperharrow
> 
> This is my first attempt at a fic for this and all mistakes are mine as I have no beta

The one thing Thaniel had always noticed about Mori was his cleanliness. Perpetual lemon soap scent notwithstanding there always seemed to be an air of clean about the man; a rarity in the sooty, dirt of London where every person and building seemed to have a faint layer of dust and dirt ingrained into their foundations. Mori seemed to transcend this, drifting through the polluted clouds to emerge just as clean as when he woke that morning.

Not like himself.

He had arrived back at the shop late that evening from the Foreign Office. He had been sent over to Whitehall and Westminster several times and each time had warranted a hike across the city, sometimes above ground, sometime below but every time in the drizzly London weather which had turned the smoke and steam into a veritable soup. His hair, skin and clothes seemed permeated with it, turning his whole self grey. Within minutes of coming through the door, Thaniel had cast a glance around for Mori, seen his grey coat missing from the rack, reasoned he must be out and ascended the staircase straight to the bathroom to wash up and change.

And that’s where Mori had found him, collarless with half-open shirt stood over the sink in the bathroom, scrubbing off a fine layer of coal dust from his face and neck with a once-white cotton cloth that was rapidly becoming greyer and greyer at the same rate as the water below him. Mori's nose wrinkled in faint, obvious distaste.

“I must admit I am not fond of your London air.”

Not one to be surprised by Mori appearing in the bathroom anymore, Thaniel abandoned the cloth to the edge of the sink and reached for the towel hanging on a rail. In the past few months Thaniel had infinitely appreciated Mori's fastidiousness and even more so when it meant a move to the new machine-looped towels rather than the harsh linen cloths he was used to. He dried his face and hands hastily and replaced the towel. His expression was rueful.

“I was out in it far too much today. I seem to be the office’s errand boy today. Feel like I have run a marathon.” He looked at his shirtsleeves. "And my cuffs are all grey too."

"Why not let me indulge you in a bath." Offered Mori suddenly. His intonation was that of a statement, not a question. Thaniel raised an eyebrow. Mori preempted his thoughts - of course he did, Thaniel realised he was becoming increasingly used to this and not unhappily - with a gentle smile.

“I think I am capable of running a tub myself. Besides I only have time for a wash really, I said I would go back to the office this evening. We've had some strange stuff coming through."

"Yes, the Fujiwara election." Said Mori without preamble and a lack of any further elucidation but Thaniel was used to it.

"And I do not mean one of your English baths where you wallow in your own filth. I would like to introduce you to the Japanese way of bathing."

Curious now, Thaniel looked up, his expression merry. He also did not miss Mori's eyes glancing down appreciatively at his disheveled form and open shirt with an intake of breath that was a faint but distinct shimmer of copper and gold. Thaniel felt a shiver run down his spine in response.

"There are different ways to bathe now?" He half-laughed, breaking the tension.

"Yes. The Japanese way and the wrong way." Mori said plainly, he returned to the door. "Remain in the bathroom, I will return. You also may want to shave, you are in very real danger of looking scruffy."

Dutifully, Thaniel returned to his ablutions, preparing the shaving soap and manoeuvring the razor blade through his light layer of stubble that even Thaniel could barely see in the mirror. Had Mori noticed before? Or else did he pick up on a possible future where Thaniel remained unshaven to his own detriment. Nothing surprised him about Mori’s knowings anymore.

He was just towelling off his newly smooth face a second time before Mori himself appeared at the bathroom door ten minutes later looking very much like a hotel porter. He had shed his jacket and tie and now was in his braces with cuffless rolled-up shirtsleeves and even more surprisingly was bare-footed on the tiles. In his arms he held a larger towel, a sizable brass basin filled with water and a block of faintly perfumed soap. His face was passive but his excitement was so close to palpable that it was taking on a faint silver sheen. He rested the basin on the tiled floor, turned the taps on to fill the bathtub and pulled out a small folding wooden stool from beside it.

“First, if you would remove your clothes and take a seat Mr Steepleton.” he gestured to the stool like a tailor. Thaniel looked askance, his modesty suddenly kicking him in the gut and then suddenly feeling foolish because it was Mori asking him to remove his clothes. Mori. But somehow the request outside of Mori's bedroom in semi-darkness was tantamount to public indecency. Finally he reached up to his collarless shirt, untucking it from his waistband and undoing the rest of his buttons. He shrugged the plain white cotton from his shoulders, lifted his thin cotton vest over his head and with a sweep of a hand, Mori swept both from him to hang them from the cast iron pegs attached to the wall.

“All of it?” Thaniel asked again, conscious of his half-dressed state.

Mori’s eyes flickered, as if his own mechanical fireflies were in the room with them. They cast downwards to Thaniel’s eminently-sensible trousers with the dangling braces. 

“All of it, Mr Steepleton.” he agreed.

Thaniel dutifully detached his braces and unbuttoned his woolen trousers, letting them fall to the floor. Mori once again swept those away with a flourish, leaving Thaniel almost shivering in his drawers, garters and stockings. He bent to unclip the garters and removed both with their attached stockings. He handed them over to Mori and their fingers brushed. Thaniel felt his pulse rise. He slid his thumbs into the waistband of his thin cotton drawers and stopped.

“But Six?” he suddenly queried.

“With Mrs Osei. She is learning kanji this evening. We are alone.” Mori’s voice was its standard rich golden amber hue but Thaniel thought he could see it flush with a rose-pink. “The drawers … then take a seat.”

Thaniel’s thin cotton drawers left his body, leaving him nude. Feeling rather self conscious, he sat down on the small wooden stool and let Mori position him to face away from him. He was quite pleased at the chance to hide the more intimate parts of his body from display. It all felt very strange. 

All the stranger still when a warm cloth, slippery with soap suddenly rested against his back and began to run in circles over his skin. At first every muscle in Thaniel’s body tensed and locked up but with Mori’s gentle movements, he tried to relax. The cloth travelled across his shoulders and chest, pausing only to renew water and warmth before continuing. It circled his sides, slid down his arms, skimmed across hips and legs. Thaniel couldn’t help but relax into the touch, especially with Mori’s gentle humming of a tune that seemed to put a golden yellow haze around him like an embrace.

Thaniel would be the first to admit that touch was not something he had received a lot of throughout his life. Having never known his mother, much of his care had come from nurses or Annabel. Whilst he had known in some way that he was loved, Thaniel had never really had that experience of a comforting, loving touch so celebrated in whimsical postcards and romantic novels. He had always accepted this as just something that he would never have, unless by some small miracle he fell in love and married someone who loved him with equal passion. Ironically enough, thoughts of Grace being that person had never even occurred to him even before their marriage. He had simply accepted that loving touch was most likely a myth propagated by artists and writers to further sales of their work.

And then there was Mori.

Mori who touched him willingly. Almost longingly. It was a stroke on his arm. Fingers on his shoulder. Palm to palm. A warm hand on his back. His chest against Mori’s own back. Mori who he had kissed and who had kissed him in return. Thaniel - having never been a craver of physical touch before - now found himself wanting, craving Mori’s touch regularly. If Mori had embraced him in the morning, he could still feel the prints on his skin hours later in the office. And now, with Mori’s soaped hands now running through his hair and neck, he closed his eyes and wanted more again. 

“And now we rinse.” 

Without warning, the bowl of warm water was poured slowly over the crown of Thaniel’s head and down his body, flushing the soap from his body. He enjoyed the sensation for a while; the embrace of the water sliding down his body, washing him clean of the day. Then he realised exactly what Mori was doing and in alarm he turned to him.   
“Won’t you flood the house?” 

Mori laughed in a perfect shower of turquoise.

“It is fine. There is a drain installed in the floor, one of my first requests when I had this bathroom altered. A pipe beneath the tiles removes the water into the yard. I have no plans to flood my shop.” he reached across Thaniel to turn off the tap of the bath. “And now - Mr Steepleton - you are clean enough to bathe.”

Puzzled, Thaniel rose from the stool and looked into the bath now filled with gently steaming water.

“In Japanese culture, you would never sully your bath with dirt. We wash off first and then bathe. A far cleaner proposition by far, don’t you think?”

Thaniel stepped into the tub, surprised to find it hot - almost too hot - but as he lowered himself into the water, he realised the heat was more than perfect. He sat down, skin tingling at the temperature but it really was pleasant. The only downside was that it only just went halfway up his torso. What he wouldn’t have given for a full tub of the water. Still, a childhood of cold dunkings and strip washes had taught him never to neglect the chance of warmth. He still had to ask.

“Do you not have deep baths in Japan?” he queried. 

“I assume you know about displacement?” responded Mori cryptically, He was removing his own shirt by now, hanging it up to join Thaniel’s on the pegs, rapidly followed by his own trousers, vest and drawers.

Thaniel tried to stop staring at the scene and fought to remember.

“Movement of water?” he murmured. Mori was now sat on the stool and washing himself down briskly and hastily. “When you add weight to water, the water has to move … somewhere.”

Mori tipped the rest of the basin of water over his body and rose from the stool glistening wet. His body shined it’s pale gold in the flickering gas lamp of the bathroom.

“Yes.” he replied to Thaniel. “Therefore in order to increase the depth of your bath, let me apply displacement theory to the problem.

And with that, he stepped over the side of the tub and sat down opposite Thaniel with barely a distance on the smooth surface. Their legs intertwined and fingers brushed against each other below the swirls of water. The air was lemon-scented from the soap and whorls to steam made patterns of the mirror and tiles. Mori had the expression of a well-fed cat.

“You know you could have just told me you wanted a bath together.”

“Yes.” said Mori. “I could.”


End file.
